Chapter 47: Mai Ming River · The Proper Reaction of a Vagrant

The play was already halfway through, and wanting to back out now was simply too late.

Aside from biting the bullet and fooling them to the end with the identity of a "vagrant," there was no other way out...

Mai Minghe recalled her words, actions, and general demeanor just a moment ago, and figured she shouldn't give herself away.

If nothing else, her miserable and filthy appearance was certainly not something that could be faked overnight. Furthermore, she had carefully weighed what should and should not be said, and felt confident she hadn't left any loose threads.

Surely the Morgans wouldn't suspect a vagrant for no reason?

Aside from what she had already told them, she would simply answer "I don't know" to everything else. Could they read minds, after all?

There was only one thing: they must absolutely not discover the artifact on her body.

That was what Mai Minghe was currently worried about.

Sitting in the back seat of the car, she was constantly terrified that her clothes might roll up or press too closely against her form, revealing the traces of the "Snake Belt" artifact. Therefore, she frequently adjusted her seating posture and tugged at her clothes.

Fidgeting back and forth so much only made the two people in the front increasingly uneasy.

"Are you that itchy?" The woman glanced at Mai Minghe in the rearview mirror and moved her seat forward a fraction. "Our company has a shower room. You can go wash up properly first."

Judging by the tone, Fu Tailan seemed to be a rather important figure, and neither of them wanted to lead a bag of fleas straight to him.

A shower was out of the question; she might wash her feet at most, but she wouldn't take off her clothes even if she were drenched in blood—though Mai Minghe naturally kept that thought to herself.

"Why would a company have a shower room?" she asked casually.

The man driving muttered under his breath, "...Nosy."

Mai Minghe had originally assumed they were simply reluctant to use the term "Hunter Clan," preferring to refer to their mansion as a "company." Having a shower room inside a mansion made perfect sense, didn't it?

However, she hadn't expected the car to ultimately drive into the underground parking lot of a genuine office building—and not just any office building, but a modern, heavily secured, and fully equipped corporate facility where the man and woman had to swipe their employee badges before they could press the button for the elevator going up.

As the elevator doors opened, Mai Minghe was led into a bright, clean, cream-colored reception room.

Several sofas were scattered around a circular rug, and a potted plant stood in the corner, its thick, glossy green leaves brushing against the ceiling. A screen on one wall played a promotional advertisement, while the wall behind the reception desk bore a simple, crisp corporate name: "Morgan & Morgan."

What surprised Mai Minghe the most was a line of small print printed directly beneath the company name: Financial Consulting and Real Estate Management.

What was going on here?

Wasn't "Morgan" a Hunter clan?

Her side gig was begging, and their side gig was financial consulting?

A young woman sitting at the reception desk immediately bent down to pick up a paper bag the moment she saw them step out of the elevator, hurrying over in a few steps. "Sister Longzhen, I just went and bought the things. They're all right here."

The woman addressed as "Sister Longzhen" didn't even look, merely motioning for Mai Minghe to take it before instructing, "Take her to wash up first."

It was a brown paper bag stamped with the name "ZARA." Mai Minghe seemed to have seen this brand before. Driven by curiosity, she opened it to find a set of clothes and a pair of shoes inside.

When they had asked for her shoe size earlier, she had guessed as much, and could not help feeling that the Morgan family was quite thorough—though thorough as they were, she was still not going to hand over the artifact.

"This brand has a rather unusual name," she said after offering her thanks, patting the bag. "Is it expensive? I hope you didn't go out of your way to spend money on me."

The others glanced at her, but none of them spoke.

"Um, Sister Longzhen..."

The receptionist didn't move. Instead, she motioned for the man and woman to step aside with her for a few paces, then lowered her voice to murmur something. The name "Fu Tailan" seemed to be faintly caught up in the mix.

Mai Minghe pretended to inspect the clothes, but her ears were perked up sharper than an antenna.

"...What?"

Longzhen's voice was also kept very low, and Mai Minghe could barely capture a few words pushed out by emotion. "Right away... at such a critical moment... Who gave him..."

Well, she hadn't managed to catch a single word of actual substance.

The receptionist murmured something else, and Longzhen fell silent.

After a few seconds, she let out a sigh as if helpless, returning to her normal volume. "Anyway, take her to wash up first. Fu Tailan said just now that he wants to question her, but he can't have her showing up looking like this... Honestly, no wonder he insisted I bring a filthy person back."

What was going on? How did this concern her?

Hearing only fragments only made Mai Minghe more nervous. Yet she knew that even if she asked, no one would take her seriously, so she had no choice for the moment but to feign utter ignorance and follow the receptionist away.

Inside a financial services and real estate management company, there actually was a shower room.

It was a single-occupancy washroom divided into two sections: a shower stall on the inside and a changing room on the outside.

Mai Minghe placed the bag on the changing room chair and pushed open the door to the shower stall—and in the next second, she staggered half a step back, as if she had been struck a physical blow.

The intense odor of sodium hypochlorite disinfectant almost made her feel as though she had returned to the hospital. No, it was even more potent than a hospital.

Standing inside the shower stall, Mai Minghe understood.

She turned her head, as if she could envision a blood-drenched hunter walking in, turning on the shower head; mucus, bodily fluids, blood... all sorts of unspeakable things brought up from the nest, washing away down the sewers of the mortal world.

The Morgans truly were a Hunter clan.

A Hunter clan that harbored no aversion to the sight of blood.

Anyone with half a brain knew how precious an artifact capable of restoring youth was; at the very least, it was far more precious than the life of an old woman with one foot in the grave.

...If she never walked out of this office building, not a single soul in the world would search for her whereabouts.

Mai Minghe leaned against the tiled wall, her hands tightly wrapping around her lower abdomen. Beneath her clothes, the "Snake Belt" pressed slightly outward, nudging against her arm.

This was her lifeline.

The moment she stepped out of the shower room would mark the beginning of a covert war to defend that lifeline.

In this battle, her greatest advantage was that the Morgan family had no idea the person standing before them was their adversary. In other words, she didn't need to attack; she only needed to avoid making mistakes.

...If I were Fu Tailan, as a director of a Hunter clan, what would I ask?

How would I test the other party and unearth information?

Lost in intense concentration, Mai Minghe unconsciously finished washing her hands, feet, face, and neck. She shoved her weary, chilled, and aching feet back into the shoes, and pulled the new clothes directly over her pajamas.

It was an autumn and winter hoodie. Layering thick concealment over the artifact gave her a measure of reassurance.

She even borrowed a comb from the receptionist, carefully smoothing her hair before stepping out—like a warrior fully armed and ready to step onto the battlefield.

"No, no, you don't need to return it,"

The receptionist waved her hands frantically, attempting to keep the comb several yards away. "Keep it, really, you keep it."

She paused, looking Mai Minghe up and down. "You know, once you're cleaned up, you're actually quite pretty. How did you end up living on the streets?"

"Bad luck, I suppose," Mai Minghe flashed her a smile, tucking the comb into her pants pocket. "Who am I off to see next?"

"Wait a moment," the receptionist picked up the phone. "Sister Longzhen? She's washed up... Yes, yes. Oh? Alright, I'll bring her over now."

It should have been a completely unremarkable exchange, simply leading someone to meet their superior... yet that single word "Oh" seemed to carry a hint of discordant surprise.

Could it be related to the whispering they had done earlier?

Mai Minghe licked her lips, steadying her resolve, and followed the receptionist with as calm a face as she could manage. After turning four or five corners, they finally arrived at the door of a private office.

"Mr. Fu?" she knocked on the door.

"Come in," responded a steady male voice.

When Mai Minghe entered, she happened to see a man standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, turning his head toward her.

She had no idea what an important figure in a Hunter clan ought to look like, but seeing him now, she felt that he probably looked exactly like this.

The man was dressed in a crisp, immaculate suit, his facial features square and solemn. Although he was middle-aged, one could still tell that in his youth he must have possessed a rather charismatic face—though ultimately unable to defeat time, his sagging jawline made him look just a fraction softened. Just a fraction, nothing more.

"Sit," Fu Tailan instructed, seating himself on the opposite side of the desk.

Mai Minghe took the visitor's chair.

This office didn't look like it was used very often. It was almost devoid of personal items, resembling nothing so much as a showroom template for office decor. Well, of course—hunters shouldn't spend all their time sitting in offices.

The only proof that someone actually used the space was two or three small plates of snacks on the desk. Fu Tailan flicked his chin toward them and said, "Help yourself."

Mai Minghe was already full, but she had to play the role of the vagrant to perfection.

The moment he finished speaking, she hurriedly tossed a grape into her mouth. Then, thinking better of it, she picked up the plate altogether, swept several cubes of cheese and all the crackers into her clothing pocket, and grabbed the remaining small cluster of grapes in her hand when they wouldn't fit.

*Not a bad performance,* she praised herself inwardly. She could tell Fu Tailan was restraining himself from frowning.

"When did you see that woman?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.

"This morning," Mai Minghe had long since rehearsed many of the questions he might ask. "I don't have a watch, so I don't know the exact time."

"Where?"

Mai Minghe named a location quite far from the Chinese restaurant.

"I know you said she kept her face covered. But think back, was there anything memorable about her?"

"Oh... about that..." Mai Minghe furrowed her brow, pretending to ponder for a moment. "She was very generous with her money."

Fu Tailan stared at her, his expression growing even more stern, clearly finding no humor in the remark.

"You seem to remember everything she told you quite clearly, though." He slowly leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desktop in a steady rhythm.

"Ah, don't mention it," Mai Minghe was well prepared. "I had no idea if her crazy talk was some kind of code or what, but I didn't remember it at first. She made me memorize it and repeat it back twice before she'd give me the money."

"Was she really that confident you would actually make the call?"

Mai Minghe had also considered how to answer this question.

"She said it was a matter of life and death. Anyway, since she gave me the money and told me to make the call, she had done all she could. If I didn't make the call and the person died, that life would still be on my head, and her conscience would be clear."

At that, she tapped her face and chest a few times, making the sign of the cross. "I'm not about to carry a murder debt. God is watching—if I didn't make that call, I'd never get into heaven."

Fu Tailan mused in silence, saying nothing, yet Mai Minghe still couldn't set her mind at ease.

The conversation had constantly revolved around the "mysterious woman," indicating that he suspected the person who provided the tip and wanted to know the true source of the information.

By harping on a nonexistent person, even though she had come prepared, she didn't dare lower her guard for a second, terrified of slipping up. Her palms were beginning to sweat.

It was utterly vexing; they already knew where Jonah was, so they should just go rescue him already—if she weren't afraid of exposing herself, Mai Minghe would have really loved to lecture them a bit.

"Why don't you sit in our company for a while," Fu Tailan gave a low, heavy chuckle. "You can leave when I tell you it's time."

A jolt went through Mai Minghe's heart, but she forced her face to remain free of any inappropriate expression.

"Why is that?" She scratched her head with one hand and asked, "I want to leave, and I'm not allowed to? This is kidnapping."

"Legally speaking, yes, it's kidnapping. So what?"

Fu Tailan was entirely unconcerned. "I can tell you why, and if you're willing to sit quietly, so much the better. There should be security cameras near the place you mentioned. Even if there aren't, we can track down people in the vicinity.

"A heavily bundled-up woman talking to a vagrant for that long on a busy street would naturally draw attention. As long as we pull up the surveillance footage or find witnesses to verify that what you said is true, you can leave. I'll even personally give you some money and see you out the door."

Mai Minghe didn't hear a single word of that last sentence—she sat frozen in her chair, her mind instantly turning completely blank.

*Ah, that's right... it seems surveillance cameras have been installed in a lot of places nowadays...*

She hadn't even considered that possibility.

It wasn't Mai Minghe's fault, because for the better part of her life, the concept of a "security camera" hadn't even existed.

She couldn't remember how old she was when she first heard of a "camera"; she only remembered that the last time she had noticed one, she was in the hospital, and her body was already failing by the day.

"Sound good?" Fu Tailan asked, his eyes still fixed upon her.

What else could she do besides nod?

She had to get through this hurdle first, even if it meant finding a chance to run away afterward.

"Alright, I'll have—"

Before Fu Tailan could finish his sentence, someone hurriedly knocked on the door, the sound heavy and urgent. This time, without waiting for him to grant permission, the door was shoved wide open, and Longzhen strode into the room.

"Mr. Fu, we have an emergency," without sparing Mai Minghe a single glance, she walked up to Fu Tailan and lowered her voice. "Jonah has—"

Jonah?

Mai Minghe jolted instantly; the moment she lifted her head to look at Longzhen, sudden realization struck her.

While Longzhen was speaking, Fu Tailan's eyes had remained firmly pinned on her.

...As if waiting to observe her reaction.